On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
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That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang
Ah whence and whither flown again, who knows?
HEX: #1B0C0F
RGB: 27 12 15
RGB: 27 12 15
HEX: #565962
RGB: 86 89 98
RGB: 86 89 98
HEX: #CE1115
RGB: 206 17 21
RGB: 206 17 21
HEX: #EA9216
RGB: 234 146 22
RGB: 234 146 22
HEX: #CCD1CA
RGB: 204 209 202
RGB: 204 209 202
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthened every shade.